Israel's Son
by Karrah Aretz
Summary: not telling, but it is NOT about the middle east despite the name...


Israel's Son  
By Maureen  
  
Disclaimer: as usual I don't own anything but the clothes on my back. I certainly don't own the characters of IaHB, Disney gets that privilege. Also, Andy Williams belongs to the Ca justice dept for his actions on 3-4-01, may he rot. Chris is an original character.  
  
Warning: This contains some very mature subject manner and if you don't think you can handle one of my song-fic tirades on a very serious topic, please, don't read any farther. I promise, I won't be offended.  
  
***  
  
Val sat in algebra hoping they would get a call so she wouldn't have to bear Mr. Boroughs monotonous lectures anymore. Sometimes miracles can occur; sometimes you don't want them too. Her pager went off and she grabbed her book bag and dashed out of class, barely looking to Mr. Boring-borough for permission.  
  
"What do we have?" Val asked climbing into the back of the ambulance with Jamie. Hank and Tyler were up front.   
  
"Kennedy High School, multiple victims," Hank replied all business. Kennedy was their rival school in Kingsport on the other side of town. It was well known for its gang violence and low academics. Jamie also lived on the border between the two schools.  
  
"Gang?" Jamie asked. He knew many people from the school and while not affiliated with any gang, was respected by several of them since he was willing to patch anyone up to the best of his abilities without question, although he extracted a high payment.  
  
"We don't know, but it's a safe assumption." Hank replied as Tyler made a sharp right turn. Assumptions are a bad thing to make.  
  
They reached the school, sirens blaring, and saw several other ambulances already there. The chief of police met them. "Head to the auditorium, that's where most of the victims are. Get in, get 'em out, that's it."  
  
The EMTs exchanged a look that said 'since when do we listen to the police chief?' but complied, dashing inside the building. Thank goodness it had the same layout as their school.  
  
Hate, is what I feel for you  
And I want you to know that I want you dead  
You're late, for the execution  
If your not here soon, I'll kill a friend instead  
  
The auditorium appeared as if a slaughter had taken place. There were easily 15 bodies lying on the floor and they spread out, trying to distinguish the living from the dead, if there were any. "I found one!" Tyler cried, and everyone dashed over, Jamie with the stretcher.   
  
The girl couldn't have been more than fourteen, bullet lodged in her shoulder and a clean hole through her middle. They immediately got to work, controlling the bleeding and braced onto a backboard.   
  
Over pain, I fear you  
You'll then start to hear you  
Over an hour, I get to  
  
I hate you, and your apathy  
You can leave, you can leave  
I don't want you here  
I'm playin this pantomime  
But I don't see ya showing any signs of fear  
  
As Hank and Tyler worked with Val comforting the girl, Jamie looked around at the carnage around him. Other EMT teams were working on other victims, as soon as group left to the hospital another group in their place. He could see where other victims had been; the dark green carpet stained a blackish-brown with blood. Somewhere behind him, someone groaned.  
  
Jamie quickly saw the guy who had made the sound, a tall, lanky black boy. "Hi, there," Jamie said, going over to him. "I'm Jamie."  
  
"Chris." The boy replied weakly. Blood was pouring out of a head wound and Jamie quickly made a long arm and grabbed his medics bag. He wiped the blood away to inspect the wound, not overly concerned knowing that head wounds bleed and look scary but usually aren't.  
  
"It's not serious," Jamie replied, applying some aneseptic. "Just a graze."   
  
Over pain, I fear you  
You'll then start to hear you  
Over an hour, I get to  
This time I'm for real  
My pain cannot hear you  
You will be dead when I'm through  
  
Jamie taped some gauze over the wound and was preparing to alert the incoming EMTs to take care of him, when Chris grabbed his arm, his grip like a vice.  
  
"This wasn't gang violence," he whispered, "This was a planned massacre during the assembly today."  
  
Hate, is what I feel for you  
And I want you to know that I want you dead  
You're late, for the execution  
If you're not here soon I'll kill a friend instead  
  
"Who?" Jamie asked, a knot in his stomach. Time seemed to stop as he waited for the answer.   
  
"Andy Williams," he replied, hand going slack.  
  
"I need a defib over here Hank!" Jamie called, checking his pulse. Hank came over with the machine and began to boot it up.   
  
"Clear!" Once.   
  
"Clear!" Twice.  
  
"Clear!" Thrice.   
  
"Time of death, 12:49pm," Jamie whispered hoarsely when Hank shook his head.   
  
Over pain, I fear you  
You'll then start to hear you  
Over an hour, I get to  
This time I'm for real  
My pain cannot hear you  
You will be dead when I'm through  
Ohhh, ohhhhhh  
  
Three hours later the squad gathered in front of the station television, Brooke and Val crying onto each other shoulders and Hank and Tyler trying to comfort them while mourning themselves. Catie was also there, her eyeliner and mascara running like a river down her face, Jamie holding her as sobs racked both their bodies.   
  
Pain, and execution  
Put your hands in the air  
Put your hands in the air  
The air, yeah   
  
They were off duty now, but could not leave each other; they had witnessed many horrific things in their short lives, as EMTs but never anything like this. School shootings happened in remote places, not Kingsport. Not at their rival school.   
  
"How?" Brooke sobbed, not truly expecting an answer. "How?" she asked again, stunned.  
  
Aaaarrggghhhh  
I am, I am Israel's son  
Israel's son I am  
Put your hands in the air  
Put your hands in the air  
  
The blasé with which the reporters told the story sickened Hank. "Bull shit!" he hollered at the TV, where the reporter had made the remark about how, despite there being 3 dead and 13 injured, the public should be thankful that it wasn't another Columbine.   
  
"You weren't fucking there! You didn't see their faces, you didn't hold that Chris's body as the life drained out of him!" Jamie joined Hank in working some of his anger out. "When you lose friends to violence like this, when it affects you personally, THEN go report on it!"  
  
"All because someone named Andy Williams couldn't cope with life." Catie sniffed, pulling away from Jamie. She held hands with Jamie and Brooke, knowing that they'll never be the same, but at least they will always be friends.   
  
I am, I am Israel's son  
Israel's son I am  
Put your hands in the air  
Put your hands in the air  
Aaaarrggghhhh, yeah  
  
I only wanted out of math class, but it wasn't worth this, Val thought, slipping her hand into Tyler's, his was in Hanks and he completed the circle with Jamie. Friends forever, no matter what.  
  
A/N: I don't think it shows in this but this sort of violence sickens me to the core of my being and few things do. I'm sick to death not only of the school violence and slaughter at business offices, which needs to stop, now, but also the detached, unaffected reporters. Don't talk to me about this crap unless you been there and I seriously doubt you have. When you've sat there, glued to the TV, praying you're family is all right but unable to find out, when you've lost someone in this carnage, talk to me then. When relax slightly because you're told everything is all right only to find out later that, no, some you love did in fact die. When you have to identify the remains of a family member and call everyone a second time to correct the first all clear phone call. Then come and talk to me. This is a very emotional, personal, issue for me…I can't be detached or unbiased. I don't want to be. Well, if you've read this far, thanks for putting up with me. I appreciate it.  



End file.
